Pieces
by sphinxs-legend
Summary: With a variety of love interests, this collection of Twilight One-Shots follows the lives of your favourite characters through the original story and some of my own making. Rated T for language. All pairings.
1. Introduction

**SUMMARY**

A collection of one-shots or chapters to potential stories. Each different, each different OC's and different love interests. Rated T for language.

**INTRODUCTION**

Hello Readers.

The things you are about to read are not like any of my other stories. This is just an idea so that I can get all the other ideas running through my head down before I forget them. What you are about to read, is a cluster of One-Shots. These One-Shots are all _Twilight _Oriented, but not from the same story.

Each are from different ideas that have been circling around in my head, so:

Some may be familiar;

Some you may not have seen any hint of;

Some you will eventually see a full story from.

So, this is kind of a sneak-peak into upcoming works. Or a little addition if I decide to write one shots on stories that have already written.

Each of these different chapters come from different parts of the story. Some may be a prologue, some may be the first chapter, some may be in the middle, some could even be the climax. I'll always make it so that you aren't any more confused than the story needs you to be. I will keep updating this as story ideas flow, which I assure you should be more often and hopefully will give me more inspiration for my other stories as well.

Because this is all twilight oriented, I'll just say it here:

**I do not own Twilight, it's original characters, or it's original storylines. I do, however own everything that is not already recognizable. Do not steal. It's rude. And I will ****smite**** you.**

I hope you enjoy this collaboration of my obsessive and random ideas!


	2. Bright Lights

_**Bright Lights**_

_Embry x OC_

_A girl drives each night to escape her problems until a little accident causes her to run into what could be a solution._

Another set of streetlights passed Delilah as she made her way off the highway and back onto the side streets that would lead home to La Push. She hated the highway. She didn't even know why she drove here, it was too fast and it didn't calm her like she needed to. But she did like the streetlights. The streetlights provided a little bit of comfort.

Streetlights reminded her of a light at the end of the tunnel - only there were tons of them. Tons of ways to escape. Tons of silver linings. They reminded her of specks of hope in the distance. She took a glance toward the dashboard clock she saw that it blared a toxic green 4:24. That was 4:24am, not pm. She rubbed her eyes to help keep them focused on the road in front of her. It was starting to wind and become more treacherous now that she was on her way to the reservation again. Treacherous meant dangerous. Dangerous meant she needed to be alert. She was never completely alert any more.

This had been a bad stretch.

Her insomnia had come back with a blinding force now that her older brother, Junior, had stopped getting paid his six months disability. She'd worried over her other siblings for nearly three days without sleep and her body was beginning to shut down.

_If Juni knew I was driving he would _kill _me..._she thought as she self-consciously tightened her grip on the steering wheel. 57 hours without sleep was starting to drive her a little mad. She couldn't even tell if the music was on half the time, she was continually turning the radio up and down. She hadn't started seeing things yet - not anything more than flickering colours at the sides of her vision, anyway. Sometimes she liked to stay up just for the delusions: they were never as strange as her dreams when she did sleep, but they were much more realistic.

She didn't mind that it made people think she was schizophrenic.

Suddenly - as it was _always _very suddenly - her eyes began to droop.

She took a deep breath, shoving against the sleep for one last moment as she pulled over to the side of the road. She locked the doors as she manoeuvred her body so that she could slide into the back seat without having to get out of the car. She grabbed the blankets from the ground and started to cocoon herself within them, these trips were always cold and she realized she fell asleep much faster when she should have been sweating from the heat. Taking a moment after submerging herself in fabric, she cursed lightly as she remembered that she had _forgotten _a pillow. Again. A pillow really should just be something she throws in the trunk. She made sure her cell phone had the alarm on full blast and quickly checked that her headlights were off.

Then, listening to the soothing sound of rain as it began to ting lightly against the hood of her car, she finally drifted to sleep.

But she wished she hadn't.

Her dreams were filled with smokey faces and harsh touches. They were filled with bindings and torture and knowing that she had brought everything upon herself. Upon her family. Whose fault had everything been, who could be blamed for something that seemed so accidental? It had to be hers...who else could have done it? _What have I done?_

Just as she began to get lost into the dream world, the world where she and everything else ceased to exist, the car jolted forward violently. She didn't even have time to cry out as her head smashed against the handlebar of the door and she immediately felt the tender area start to pulsate. Great. That was a good sign of a welt yet to come.

She looked around, nothing seemed odd. Nothing seemed out of place. The car wasn't smashed to bits, she wasn't in a ditch, she was even conscious. There was no sound of squealing tires and there seemed no way she could have fallen asleep _behind _the wheel. In fact, she was so dazed she couldn't bring herself to look out the window.

"Hey! Are you okay?" A low voice yelled out before the door opened with a rush. Delilah tried to let the sound of rain wash over the pain in her scull, but the man had opened the door that her head had been hit with, so she was left with looking up towards the rain. It would have been soothing were she not in pain. The ran fell down while she could look up towards the man who opened the door.

The muscles were immaculate. His skin was beautifully coloured, as copper as hers was bronze. His wide brown eyes were like cinnamon: smouldering and spicy. He looked at Delilah in that way of his that always upset her.

"Embry!" She exclaimed angrily, wincing at the volume of her own voice. She tried to lift her head and found she could not. "What are you doing here? How did you get the car door open?"

"What am _I _doing here? What are _you _doing here? Delilah, it's almost five in the morning." She rolled her head to glance at the clock and see that the clock read 4:43am.

"Shit!" She groaned, frustrated tears were quickly gathering in her eyes. She hadn't even gotten half an hour of sleep. It was impossible. She would never sleep. This sleep deprivation would end up killing her. "_Shit_!" She cursed again, more forcefully.

"Delilah...do you realize you got hit by a car?"

She blinked as she felt her body sober up. His words had seemed to go in one ear and out the other as she looked at him in confusion. "I did what?"

"A car...it looks like a car hit your rear end and drove away. It would be impossible to find because you're out in the _middle of nowhere._" His eyes turned angry and even more spicy as he glared at her incredulously. "What are you thinking?"

"I got tired." She mumbled, already uncomfortable with his scolding.

"Of _course _you're tired, it's 4:45 in the morning!" He exclaimed. "Why the hell were you out for an early morning cruise?"

"Lay off, Em." She hissed fiercely. So fiercely that other people would have fallen back a step, but Embry had known her far too long to fall for that trick. It was easier to look at him, but to make her case more pointed, she sat up to glare at him. She had to hold the back of her head to keep herself from being too dizzy to sit up straight.

She and Embry hadn't spoken in a long while. They had once been friends, she had hung around with Embry, Quil, and Jake in elementary school. The boys all kept close ties with her because they had looked up to her older brother Juni - short for Eric Robert Silver, Junior - who was the best mechanic in the county. Until his nervous breakdown. That had set him back a few steps.

When they entered middle school, they were still friends but not friends in the traditional sense. It was one of those relationships you acknowledged each other in the halls with a 'hey' or a smile. It later digressed into a nod. Which later disintegrated into eyes flickering in a different direction.

Then one by one, the three dropped out of school.

They were probably druggies. Gang members. She had heard all the rumours flying around because of Sam Ulley's elite club of athletes, but never really confronted her ex-friends about it. If they were druggies, it would explain the creepy stares she had been getting from Embry the past week, the ones that started when he saw her shopping in the grocery store. Only someone who was really tripping out could have kept their face remotely close to that dumbfounded. He probably thought she was a statue or something. She was still afraid to tell him to stop, what with the muscles. Had they kept in better terms after middle school, they probably could have talked about it. Or she could have at least felt worried about all three of them. But she didn't. They'd made their choices.

And Delilah had much more pressing things to worry about.

"How am I going to get home?" She all but sobbed in frustration. She could just imagine what would happen if the house woke up to her and the car gone: Juni would have another break down right there in the kitchen; Scarlet would call all her tweeny friends on their cell phones that they still didn't know how to use in moderation, so the whole reservation would end up knowing; Nico would complain that she was the only one allowed to make his cereal and his lunch, then the political genius would go on the longest running child Hunger Strike the world had ever known; then of course, little Miche would just cry and no one would hold her because they were all afraid to.

That was one of those reasons she had to get home faster...what if Miche had had a bad dream and had woken up the whole household, each of which were too afraid to come out of their rooms to check on her? The three year old could have easily suffocated on that stupid stuffed animal their parents had given her the week they had died.

She had to get home. Now.

She jumped out of the car, trying hard not to sway too much as the wind caught her and her head spun. She hated reading about all those girls who needed the guy to pick her up with 'strong, warm hands'. Even though Embry probably had them.

She shook her head.

It was overdone. She preferred picking herself up and taking the more dignified means of transportation. She took a look to the damage of the vehicle.

_Damn._

The entire left backlight was destroyed, punched in by some unseen force that bent both the bumper and the trunk out of shape. It wouldn't be closing properly any time soon. The car looked as if it were a water colour picture that had been creased while wet: somehow the bents looked fluid, but the effect was all wrong.

"Will this thing even drive?" She asked. Her little 2001 Toyota Echo was pummelled. As she tried to go through everything her brother had taught her about cars, she started to think there was no way to completely repair the damage: but she was hoping that she would at least get to drive with it. Then Juni could fix it to the best of his capabilities.

_At least get me home._

"I wouldn't bet on anything. I don't know if it's gotten any damage in the wheel bearings or the shocks. It could even have screwed up the axel." Embry muttered to her, looking the damage over with narrowed eyes. She squeezed her hand against her head and shut her eyes painfully tight. She should be able to think this through. Her brother had taught her all those words: axel, shocks, wheel bearings...they meant something but her head hurt too much to give her the mental pictures she was used to generating.

"How hard did you hit your head?" The ever-perceptive Embry asked, now ignoring the really important matter: the car.

"Hard." She responded icily. "I really need to get home."

"Let me see your head." It wasn't so much of a request as it was an order. She slowly lowered her hand and was pleased when she saw no blood on it. Embry, however, sucked in a breath after touching her head and having her cry out.

"That doesn't look good." He announced, as if he were giving a patient news that they had cancer.

"Funny, it doesn't feel that great when you _press _on it, either. I don't think you get that I need to go home-"

"I don't think you get that you need to get to a hospital." Embry said a little more authoritatively. It threw her off guard for a brief moment, hearing him be so serious. The Embry she remembered was funny, even if half the time it was because he was so awkward and shy. If you got him on a good day, or when he was completely comfortable, Embry was just as funny as Jake and Quil. When he was serious it was a quiet strength he had, but he had never been the one to enforce it.

"I'm just dizzy, it's not that bad."

"It's a concussion for sure. I'm just not good enough to tell you if it's minor or major. So go on. Get in the car, I'm going to drive you to the hospital and you can call your family from there." She shook her head. She was not going to the hospital any time soon, but the context behind the sentences gave her hope.

"Will this thing even drive?"

"Guess we're going to find out." He said finally, walking towards the drivers seat and pushing the seat back before he attempted to get in. Delilah sighed, so long as he would drive the car, she felt it could be safe.

Maybe Michelle would sleep in so she wouldn't cry. Maybe Scar would be too tied up on her phone to even notice she was gone. Maybe Juni would be too preoccupied with the paper...

...Nico would never let her go without making his breakfast.

As the car started, rather bumpily, she shook her head. "Em, I really need to go home."

"No way, Della. You have a head injury."

"You don't really remember how my family works, do you?" She hissed loudly, grabbing onto his attention. "Either get out and watch me drive away, or drive me home so we can pretend nothing's wrong until my little siblings go to school. You don't get it. _I'm _the mother now. So throw this piece of junk in the right direction and take me home." She watched his dawning shock the more she spoke and as she took a deep breath when she was finished, she immediately regretted the way she had phrased everything. But not the context. She had to go home, simple as that. She just wished she hadn't have been so rough on the guy who was clearly trying to help her.

"Home it is." He said sourly, putting the car in reverse and getting it back in line with the road.

"Please." She added, already embarrassed. Embry seemed nervous driving the car. He didn't put the radio on, he didn't dare look at Delilah, and he kept drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. It made her feel even more embarrassed and with that it made her feel more anxious. He knew how she couldn't help talking when she was anxious. Maybe that's what he had bet on.

"Listen," she said quietly, but defiantly. She didn't like apologizing. She tried not to think of the irony that she was now the quiet one and he was authoritative - it was so opposite from their childhood. "I didn't mean to be rude or anything. I just - they need me back at home. It really wasn't about you. I'm glad you came along, and if it doesn't get any better maybe I will go to the hospital or something but - thank you. You know, for kinda saving me."

The smallest smile flickered across his face and there was a moment where he tried to mask it. But then, he let it burst as he noticed she was showing a similar smile. Strangely enough, she felt herself blush.

"It's what I do." He said simply. She snorted.

"Sure y'do." There was another silence. She didn't know what to say to him nor did he really know what to say to her. Maybe they couldn't remember what all they had in common. Not only that, but did they still have those things in common? With Delilah's personality pulling a complete 180 and Embry possibly joining a gang, what was safe subject matter?

"What _happened _to you?" Embry asked slowly. "You just disappeared."

"What happened to _you_?" Delilah asked just as pointedly. "You became one of the elite beef-cakes."

"So you've noticed the muscles?" Embry asked raising his eyebrows tauntingly.

"They are a little in-your-face, don't you think?" She said quietly. "How long did it take you to get those?"

"They're natural." He replied slowly. "Came with the growth spurt."

"Remind me not to feed Nico whatever it is you eat."

"How is the little guy?" Nico must have been a baby the last time that Embry had seen him - he may have just gotten to walk before they stopped being friends. He hadn't even Michelle.

"He's a stressed little boy. Has a lot of fears." It was more of a mumble to herself rather than for pity. Either way, she added a quick, "but he's a great kid."

"Good. That's good." He had gone back to determinedly looking out of the windshield, making sure not to make eye contact with her. She saw his hands grip the steering wheel tightly.

She didn't like that there was even more silence, but as she had noticed, it seemed that Embry found it impossible not to talk to her.

"What were you doing sleeping in the middle of the forest?"

"What were you doing walking in the middle of the forest?" She shot back.

"Do you always answer a question with another question?" He smirked, looking at her again. She raised an eyebrow.

"Do you always avoid the questions I ask with another question?"

Well. This was getting them nowhere. Delilah sighed, looking out the windshield before closing her eyes. The sun was coming up and it hurt her head. Maybe she had done a little bit more damage than she though. "I was trying to sleep."

"Five minutes off the highway?" He asked lowly.

"Yes. I got tired. You don't know what it's like not to sleep. When you get the urge, you take it. Doesn't matter when. You never know how long it'll be before you get the urge again." He looked at her from the corner of his eyes, scrutinizing her sincerity. As he fully took in her appearance with a furrowed brow, he turned back to the road, trying to release the tension from his shoulders.

"How long did you sleep for before the crash?"

"'Bout twenty minutes." She whispered, rubbing her eyes which burned inside her pulsing skull.

"And how long has it been since you slept?" It was a light interrogation that she ignored because of her headache. Otherwise she probably just would have been a smartass.

"If you don't count that lousy twenty minutes, then about three days." She'd gone longer, but she'd never been in a car accident during those three days like she just has been. She felt even more exhausted. It was like she was waiting for the hallucinations, just so she could have something to look forward to. Something like a sleep or dream state. That point of numbness where your head doesn't hurt and your eyes don't sting because they've been open too long. She wanted it to be to the point where everything just felt _raw._

"Three d-" Embry stopped himself, she could tell he was beside himself with shock. She gave a lopsided smile.

"I don't look it, do I? Thanks." She mocked, knowing that she probably looked like crud.

"That's bad for you." He grumbled.

"Not much I can do about it, now is there?" Embry stopped staring at the glass in front of him and looked towards her. He didn't look angry he looked...shaken. As if the news had genuinely upset him that she wasn't doing as well as everyone had thought.

Everyone on the reservation had thought that it was good of Delilah to take over her mother's place when she died. They thought that she would grow out of her party-animal and embrace the inner maternal instinct. And she did. But it had come with a price. The price of self-sacrifice and the disappearance of most of her identity. She didn't really know who she was anymore without her family. She wasn't 'Della' anymore - a nickname given to her by Leah Clearwater after Bella Swan, the girl who always got herself into trouble. No. Now she was strictly Delilah Shawna Silver. The homemaker with the nightmares. The girl who went on late night drives to try and get to sleep. The girl who had dropped out of school after her brothers third nervous breakdown.

The girl who had given up everything and had nothing to show for it.

_What a thing to think! _She scolded silently. She had her family. Her family, the thing that she had been working for and the thing she had given everything up for. And all things considered, they had lots to show for it. Delilah babysat Michelle every day while Nicholas and Scarlet went to school. Sometimes she babysat more children so that they could have some extra spending money. After all, Junior's anxiety medication was somewhat pricey now that he was labelled as unfit to work. He mostly slept because of his medication, on good days he fixed cars.

Someone once said that if you do something right, people won't notice you did anything at all...or something like that. And it was true. No one really noticed that Delilah was there anymore. Maybe it's because she wasn't.

She was starting to become a living zombie.

It seemed almost like Embry was listening to her inner monologue because he looked back over to her with sad eyes.

"Listen, Della..." he paused, trying to find the right words as he gazed into her eyes. "I'm sorry. About everything. I didn't even know that it had, you know, turned out like this."

"Don't worry about it." Delilah said dismissively, concentrating as fiercely as she could on the road. She hated the pity-parties and the sympathy she would receive from the people who hadn't even come to check on her to see if she was okay. She didn't like their teary eyes or their false promises to help whenever she could.

"But I _do _worry about it. Why don't you come to Emily Young's house? She can make breakfast and you can sleep on the couch while I get Jake to look at your car." There was a moment of hesitation where she thought it was a wonderful idea...someone babying _her._

"It's fine. Juni can look at the car. I have to take Scar and Nico to class." She tried not to imagine how rude she had sounded as she brushed his kindness off of her shoulder. She didn't have time to do something like that, and she didn't want to experiment how her family would live without her when she had disappeared in the middle of the night with the car.

She could bet that the fire department, police, ambulances and search parties would have never been as organized, were that the case.

"But you'll go to the hospital?" He asked, his eyes tearing through her. She tried to close her eyes hoping that it was frustration and not a head injury that made her do it.

"If it gets worse."

"It _is _getting worse." Embry pointed out. She opened her eyes to look at the road defiantly. She just needed to get in the house and she could give this gang member the slip. Juni may be pretty much dysfunctional, but he was still big and scary as any big brother could be.

"Why do you argue everything?" She hissed.

"Why do _you _argue everything?" He growled back. She slumped down more in her seat. "Honestly, Della, your head needs to be looked at-"

As he started to berate her again, a person ran in front of them. The man was fast, but somehow all the blurry movements were chiselled in a blind fury. So blind that he didn't even see that he had run into the middle of the road. Tall, pale, and somewhat lanky, the man balled his hands into fists at his sides. His black eyes were basically trying to tear through her chest as he glared at her.

"Look out!" She screamed, realizing they were on a collision course.

It was the last thing either of them heard before the sound of crunching metal.

_**Please Review :)**_


	3. Time After Time

_**Time After Time**_

_Edward Cullen runs into a ghost from his past whose mind is even too complicated for him. How did his dead acquaintance get such a look-alike a century later? Nevertheless, how does she share century-old memories? _

**A story on Hiatus until I have more time for it.**

_Edward x OC_

_Anna_.

It was all he could think about. Even as flashes of this 'Eden' interrupted his own curiosities, memories were ricocheting through his mind. He hadn't thought of Anna in years, it always upset him when he did. All he could think about were his last moments with her, when she had been so helpless, so weak and so fragile. Even as she had been at her most vulnerable point, she could always make him smile.

Sweet, innocent, beautiful Anna. She had been such a brief character in his life and yet he could still remember her through all the murk and gloom of his human memories. He remembered so many things about her, but he knew that those memories had faded. Had she had freckles all over her body like Eden did, or did she have them just over the bridge of her nose? Had her eyes been more violet, or was that just his memory playing tricks on him?

And as for this 'Eden', what of her? How is it possible that almost a century later, the mirror image of Anna was living, breathing and talking to him...nevertheless _remembering. _How would she be able to think some of the things that came to mind when they saw one another? Could it really be that she had some of Anna's memories? How would that even be possible? How could any of this be possible?

"Oh stop your moping," Alice's twittering voice came from behind him. He growled a bit. She had told everyone in his family about the newest discovery: this familiar girl who could make him _live _memories. He had yet to talk to Carlisle about the options over her similarities to Anna, but couldn't bring himself to do it yet. He looked over his shoulder to see his bubbly sister sit down on the couch beside him.

"I wasn't moping." He responded lowly. "I was thinking."

"Well you are thinking too hard," she said with a smile. "I had a vision."

Edward didn't think twice before he began to probe her thoughts, trying to listen in to whatever it was she was thinking about. He caught a very short image of himself, his hands dug in his jacket pockets as he watched Eden walk beside him. She seemed to be blushing and trying to suppress a smile. When the short scene ended, he looked to Alice with raised eyebrows.

"You expect me to go see a human. Now?" He asked, trying to hold as much scepticism in his voice as he could, though he couldn't deny the feelings that pulsed through him with the thought of getting to talk to her and pry out some answers. Alice's eyes rolled dramatically.

"Oh, don't think you're fooling me. The image hasn't changed, even after you saw it. We both know you're going to go. Besides, Eden isn't just _any _human. She's special."

"What do you mean, 'special'? What would make you say that?" But he wasn't kidding anyone. He could tell the girl was special. If not just for the fact she looked like someone who lived a century before, then for the fact that her thoughts were projected as if one could live in them. But were there other reasons?

"She's special. To you." Alice clarified, her face dropping to look more serious. "You can't tell me that she isn't, even a little bit li-"

"Don't finish that sentence." He hissed, his voice hardening and his mouth tightening. Alice bowed her head, knowing that her thoughts would plague him as images of his chocolate eyed fiancé came into view. He squeezed his eyes tightly against the images even though it made them more noticeable. "Stop it."

"I'm sorry, I can't help it." She muttered, her voice sounding a little choked. He knew that were she able to, she would probably be crying right now. "I try not to think about her for you, but I really think that Eden-"

"Eden what?" Edward hissed. "The only reason I'm _remotely _interested in this human is because it should be impossible that she looks so similar to Anna Survans, _who is also dead._" His voice was harsh, his words stung her and he could tell.

"That's not true." Alice whispered softly, not having the heart to fully argue him when what they were really talking about was _her. _How he would be betraying _her _memory.

"It _is _true. This girl is not _her, _and because of it I don't care about Eden whatsoever. I am fascinated. That does not mean that I am going to change my plans to go and speak to her."

"What plans?" Alice asked, beginning to get flustered. It was just like Alice to already be defensive over a friend she had not yet made. "You've been sitting around thinking about Anna and Eden or moping about Bella-" he winced at the sound of her name. "All you _ever _do is moan over Bella. She was my friend too, I didn't want her to die either."

"Don't start this conversation with me-" He told, grinding his teeth against the blinding emotions that clenched at his immobile heart.

"I will do whatev-" He was saved by a vision, but it was not a vision he wanted to see. In the vision, he saw a boy grab onto Eden's arm, pulling her roughly behind him out of a party as she yelled at him. There was something about the unnerving image that made him furious. This was not a friend pulling her behind the bushes, no, this was something much more disgusting. Much more horrible. The sight made his breath quicken, his skin chilled to the bone. That was what would happen if he didn't see her this night?

"Edward," Alice gasped, turning her blazing eyes to him. "Go. _Now_."

Edward didn't need to be told twice. Argument forgotten and without thinking about anything other then that Eden may be in trouble, he used all his speed and ran towards where he had seen her being pulled away from.

It was much cooler then it should have been for this time of year. The yells of drunken students sounded in Edward's ears as he walked through the crowded campus towards the residence that wreaked of sweat. He smelled alcohol everywhere, then again he shouldn't be surprised: it _was _Friday.

Students were trying to hide their drunken sin from the world behind bushes and buildings, but nothing could surpass him. Their bodies screamed liquor and their minds screamed sex. All but one mind. The mind he cared most to pry.

Her thoughts were filled with the thoughts of regretting the few drinks that she needn't had in the first place. She tried to go through her list of friends to see who could have spiked what she'd consumed because she knew that she shouldn't feel this light headed after only two drinks. She was thinking about what excuse she would use to get her friends safely back home sooner so that she could leave the party, herself. Then she tried to stop her mind from wondering who would be staying in whose room tonight.

Edward walked into the booming residence, trying to hide his disgust that so many people were pushing themselves against each other and hoped for their sakes that no one planned to do that to him. The music was loud, but not loud enough that it blocked out people's thoughts or voices. He was in tune with everything around him, including with the delicious smell which wafted from the room. He had to grit his teeth against the severity of the aroma. It was strong. But he had to be stronger.

Eden was leaning against the farthest wall, her gaze was dark towards her barely sipped third glass of what smelt like vodka, tequila and gingerale. She was trying to place the taste, thinking that she had only had tequila and gingerale. So, Edward realized, someone _had _slipped more alcohol into her drinks. He hoped - for the boys sake - that it hadn't been the boy who he'd seen in Alice's vision.

Speaking of which, the tall and bulky jock walked beside her with a casual wobble. "Hey cutie," he greeted. She humoured him with a glance but looked away with a quiet snort when she realized his eyes couldn't focus on her own. "I know you."

"And I know you. You're Brad." She stated factually, distracting herself by swirling her drink lightly. She took a sniff of it, trying to distinguish that smell again, before she grimaced. It was a strong smell, even from all the way across the room.

"You're Eve...Ellen?...E-"

"Eden." She said shortly, not at all moved by his attempt to be sly.

"Lookin' for a good time, cutie? Ain't you in Med school? Have to have a rod shoved up your ass for it, anyway. I c'n help with that if yeh like..." Edward's felt his fists clench. No one should speak to a lady like that, nevertheless a lady that he knew. A lady he had once known so well. He watched in satisfaction as she wrinkled her nose, his favourite old habit of Anna's, and took one side step away from him.

"I don't want to be that kind of doctor." She said lowly, pretending to sip her drink and almost coughing when some actually slipped past her lips.

"Well, you can at least give me a physical, baby." He told as he tried to lick his lips seductively. It looked more humorous than anything but Edward couldn't enjoy the comedy as Eden's mind started to go into panic, vivid and bright images rushed through her mind as she began to frighten herself.

"I'm really not interested."

"Are yeh taken?" He asked looking down at her hand and looking for a ring. She was obviously not taken she just didn't like the guy, Edward thought lazily. This boy was definitely living up to the stereotype of his football scholarship.

"I said," Eden growled a bit more strongly. "I'm not interested." She went to move away, to go and tell her friends that it was indefinitely time to leave, but he grabbed her arm to stop her. A tornado of images flew past Edward's eyes of all the other times people had grabbed her. He could barely make most out because of the speed, but most of them were male. Most of them scared her senseless. Because of the fear she suddenly felt, that she radiated towards him, Edward suddenly felt scared too.

He moved - again almost ruining his human cover - so that his hand was firmly wrapped around 'Brad's' wrist. He applied enough pressure to make him howl but not enough to break the bones, even though he wanted to. Brad slipped into nervous thoughts about who he'd insulted and that the arm that was being hurt was his throwing arm.

"I believe the lady said that she was not interested." Edward tried to keep his voice from sounding like a snarl but it still sounded _wrong. _Brad seemed to realize this, even in his drunken stupor.

"Get off me, asshole!" Brad slurred, the anger and alcohol were a dangerous mix on him. Luckily, Edward knew he didn't need to be worried. He would never lose a fight to him.

"Apologize." Edward recommended, but as the thoughts of breaking his wrist raced through his mind he knew what was about to happen.

"Don't, it's okay." Eden said quietly to prove him right, even though part of her couldn't help but imagine him getting hurt so he wouldn't do it again. Edward wanted to appease those thoughts, but her calm and quiet voice made him want to halt all actions she disapproved of.

"Are you kidding? Le'me go you freak!"

"I believe I told you to apologize." He told, knowing now this was not about protection, but a little bit of a work out for his frustration. He'd been having so much trouble with it of late that now seemed as good a time as any to try and release it. The question was really, why did he feel so protective of her in the first place? Was it just that he was seeing her as if she were Anna and Anna had once been so fragile?

"Let me go and we'll settle this fist to fist!" Brad bellowed, beginning to draw a crowd, which Edward didn't want, but he wasn't about to let the boy go.

"No, don't say that, Brad. You're drunk." Eden advised, her heart starting to thud harshly against her chest as she surveyed the gathering crowd with anxiety. It only made her heart quicken more, which almost sent him into a frenzy. Edward's mouth watered at the sounds, knowing what that did to her blood. He tried to stop breathing so that he wouldn't have to smell it, he didn't know how much he could take when it pounded through her veins like that...

"I'll fight you, fucker-"

"I don't wish to fight an unfair fight." Edward stated, even though part of him _did, _just so that people would know not to touch Eden or else they would get the same treatment. He wanted to hit himself, he should not think of her like this. She was a _blood singer. _Her job was to be the perfect food for him.

"It'll be unfair because I'll _pummel _you!"

"Edward," Eden came and touched his shoulder blade. He felt the warmth of her body soak through his jacket and the smell of her made his venom flow. He was sure that if his heart could beat, it would be thudding against his chest just as harshly as hers was. "Let him go. He's not worth the trouble, no matter who may win."

Brad held his mouth in what he must have thought looked like a snarl but in reality it looked like a disfigurement. Edward looked to Eden, her violet eyes wide with concern, her pale freckled hand still warm and tight on his shoulder. Images of the two of them walking hand-in-hand out of the situation are what tempted him to leave and fulfill the second part of Alice's vision. Maybe he'd get closer to understanding her relation to Anna...

He let go of Brad's wrist and turned around, placing his hand on the small of Eden's back as he tried to steer her away, but Brad's thoughts were all too clear. The football star wanted to hurt him and he would do it by using his injured hand to prove his dominance. Before the football star could get the good and cowardly punch to the back of Edward's head like he wanted, Edward used his fast reflexes and gently bumped his fist into Brad's sternum.

Brad crumpled.

He hit the cold tile floor with a groan of agony. His moans alerted what turned into wide eyes and whispers from too many spectators. He had just crippled a football star.

_Who is that? Did he cheat? Can Brad still play? We have a game on Thursday! That guys going to get beat up by the team. Who's that girl beside him? Did he actually just punch out the star? Oh, I hope Brad's face isn't hurt! It was like, hottie against hottie and the better hottie won! Was Brad making a move on his girlfriend? _

The last thought unnerved him and by the heat and images of the underside of rocks which were emanating from Eden, she was uncomfortable too. Part of him wanted to just dash out himself and leave Eden now that he knew she would be safe, he didn't want people to get any more ideas about the two of them. But at the same time...

_Take me away from here. _A voice whispered in his mind. Suddenly, under a trance, he did it. Even without meaning to.

_**Please Review :)**_


	4. Greed: Seven Deadly Sins

_**Greed**_

_Rosalie_

_Greed is one of the __Seven Deadly Sins__ my sequel of one shots. This particular story (which I may later turn into a full story) has to do with what Rosalie cannot get enough of and what she would kill to have._

Rosalie was dead. Rosalie was obviously, inexplicably, and irreversibly dead. There had never been a moment of doubt when Carlisle Cullen had turned her into the demon she was, whether or not she was dead. She knew it. Because she felt dead...and she felt dead merely because she felt more alive than she ever had.

She felt so strong, so powerful, and so quick and she felt intelligent. She felt invincible...

And the reason she was invincible was because nothing could hurt her. And nothing could hurt her because she would never change. She would never need to heal or change because she was stuck in this stone age of perfection.

_Perfection my ass, _Rosalie thought bitterly. To her, it was not perfection. She was the most stunning and elegant statue on the planet. The most perfectly chiselled ice sculpture of a monster, who murders creatures to get ahead in life...or death. Or was it considered undead? It was a complicated creature that could always be summed into one word:

_Vampire._

She had had her fill of animal blood only two hours before. Carlisle was having an emergency at the hospital and had given his car to one of the nurses to drive some of the families' home to Seattle. A large, nineteen car pileup had happened on the highway between Forks and Seattle, but with the 44 patients needing to be examined or thrown into beds, Forks and the Seattle hospitals were split to try and accommodate all the gore.

Esme, Rosalie, and Emmett had been easily brought into the idea of assistance. Jasper and Alice never really went because of their gifts. Jasper was always so disturbed by feeling so many people dying at once because of his empathy, and Alice didn't like seeing how many of them would not leave through the doors.

Normally he would have enforced Edward with his ever-handy mindreading capabilities. Edward still would have been the first choice were he not on his first 'family vacation' with Nessie and Bella. Rosalie tried not to bristle at the thought. She hated it that Renesmee was not with her; nevertheless that Renesmee was not hers to be with.

As Esme drove in front of them with a nice, sleek, silver Dodge Charger, Emmett drove Rosalie's ostentatious BMW convertible. The top was up today as it had recently been raining (as usual), but it was still a car to be ogled. It was hers, after all, and a car must represent the driver.

"You aren't still upset they went on vacation, are you?" Emmett asked with his loud voice, which was never able to hold back any subtext. He had never been subtle.

"Yes. I am." She hissed. Renesmee was growing at an astounding rate. They should have kept her home until she was full grown to avoid people thinking she was an immortal child...again...or so that Rosalie would get to see her. She'd probably miss a whole year of growth in the two months they were gone. "It's inconsiderate."

"Ed can do what he wants with _his _wife and daughter." He pointed out, again neglecting to be subtle. The effect was not lost on her and a snarl ripped through her throat. She held it in and kept it as a vicious purr in her chest, feeling guilty to take out her dismay on her husband.

Emmett had wanted children too. He had wanted a life. But it would never happen. They would never have the chance to change, to grow old together, and to die in one another's arms. But they could live. Forever. Barely old enough to look out of university, most certainly not old enough to pass as a couple who would never separate, and never complete.

Because Rosalie wanted life. And not _her_ life. _A _life. A baby. A child. Someone she could raise and love and nurture. It was supposed to be Renesmee...and it wasn't. It couldn't be. The child was born so intelligent that she didn't need to be cared for. She was born so intelligent that had Bella died (as Rosalie not-so-secretly wished her to), she would have known Rosalie was not her blood mother.

So Rosalie was, again, short-handed.

"Come on; start storing up your hot air now or you'll have nothing to steam off." Emmett winked at her and she couldn't help but send him a small smirk. She could have just cut off her breathing completely, it was a silly habit she had picked up because of her close contact with humans, but it was easy to cease. Even if they had recently fed, the excess of blood and sometimes racing hearts of hospital rooms were always tempting.

"Can't we go any faster? 20 over the speed limit is snail-speed." Rosalie groaned, watching Esme in front of them with a roll of her eyes. Honestly, sometimes her humanity was disturbing. Even humans sped!

"Would you mind getting your ear scolded off?" He retorted. She turned around in her seat and watched Esme's eyes in her rear view mirror. She weighed her options.

"Speed up a bit and pressure her to move faster."

"But she's going to blame me!" He whined. She smirked at him.

"Well, of course. You _are _driving." He sneered lightly at this, not needing to look at the road as he threw 'the eyes' at her.

"But Rose, driving faster doesn't do shit to benefi-" she sighed, and cut him off...most likely just as he had wanted her to.

"The sooner we get there the sooner we can go home and be alone." She said bluntly. His eyebrow rose suggestively and he smiled, looking to the road and speeding up.

"Done and _done_."

The hospital was crowded and loud. There were few silent areas and usually if it was silent, it was cracking with sobs not far off. Rosalie put on her face of indifference, but even she was not heartless. She felt remorse for the people who had lost their lives. She wished she were one of them.

"Hello Mrs Cullen - Mr and Mrs Cullen." The young receptionist, Danielle, welcomed. She was about twenty two and had never looked so frazzled. She greeted Esme first, the most familiar to the hospital. Emmett and Rosalie were mentioned second, but she seemed to be looking through them. Even their good looks could not distract her from what she must have seen this evening.

"Hello Danielle. How are you holding up?" Esme asked sympathetically. Danielle tried to hold back the tears that stung her eyes.

"It's terrible, Mrs Cullen. There were children...there were parents...we're losing more people than we're saving."

"Oh dear," Esme moaned, horrified. "Is there any way we can help?"

Danielle bit on her lip; she knew that legally they were not allowed to do a thing. After all, they were not licensed doctors and they were not supposed to help around the hospital as often as they did. The problem was that they _did _often help out at the hospital and from what Rosalie could see, right now they needed it. The nurses were basically running from room to room, the doctors were nowhere in sight.

"I'd have to ask Doctor Cullen and is just finishing an early delivery and then he has to go see the woman who shattered all of her limbs..." She was trying so hard to do the right thing and Rosalie almost felt sorry for her. Esme's heart was reaching out even further than hers was as she took the reins and steered away from Danielle's guilt.

"We could do room checks?" She offered kindly. "Just to see that everyone is okay. It would not be a problem."

The young receptionist let out a long breath as if she could finally feel her lungs again. She looked between all three of them, making sure she would not be asking too much before she nodded.

"That would be great. The nurses are going a little crazy..."

Emmett snorted rather loudly and drew all the attention on himself as he watched a particularly scattered nurse run between two doors. She seemed to forget which one she was needed in. "More like a lot crazy. They look like chickens with their heads cut off."

Rosalie would have laughed if she weren't so busy scoffing at him. Honestly, sometimes his sense of humour was so inappropriately placed. Always right on the bat, but never properly timed.

"True." Danielle whispered, blushing slightly. She, like most women, had a small crush on all of the Cullen men. "Well, you can check the B and C wings for me. Those are the ones with the more...quiet patients." She winced, trying to keep it from them that it meant they were the ones in a coma. They were the ones that were less likely to die and the ones that hopefully wouldn't scream out in agony.

"Emmett and I will take the 'B' wing." Rosalie said quickly. She would make it her duty to walk past the incubators - the most bittersweet place in the world. It was a sad tradition each time she came to the hospital, just so that she could feel her heart tear from her chest: the motion almost made it feel like it was beating.

Esme looked at her with sad eyes, knowing her plan instantly. Rosalie tried to avoid her gaze. She hated seeing the sympathy within that woman's eyes. Danielle didn't seem to notice at all as she said, "I think Dr Cullen is scheduled in the C wing as of...oh dear Lord, 46 minutes ago, Mrs Cullen. Maybe you can see if he needs anything else."

"Thank you Danielle, we'll leave you to your work. Page us if you need anything, we're here to assist." The receptionist smiled before the phone started to ring on cue. She took a deep breath and delved back into her work, pretending as if she hadn't gotten a break in the first place.

Emmett came closer to Rosalie and linked his arm in her own. He tried to give her a smile but it came out somewhat hollow. He hated how she always felt the need to pass by the baby-room. She, however, held her head high, barely acknowledging Esme's departure as they made their way to the right hallway - and the B wing.

The large, canary yellow room was visible behind a thick veil of glass. No fingerprints adorned it as she looked through the glare towards the babies, all pleasant and happy: completely unaware of the chaos surrounding them.

Except for one. One baby was silent, unmoving, and yet there was chaos all around it. Nurses were trying very hard to check the vitals and were checking up on it. Rosalie adjusted herself so that she could look at the baby more closely.

"Oh Emmett, look..." she moaned sadly. The baby was tiny, obviously a preemie. It couldn't have been much more than three pounds and if completely stretched it was minutely bigger than a roll of paper towel. It was thin and bald, still and silent, with disturbingly large purple bags under its eyes with its pale skin. The baby kind of looked vampiric because of its obvious sickness. She willed the baby to open its eyes...she could barely even tell the gender.

"How early do you think it was?" Emmett asked, obviously disturbed as well. He even shifted uncomfortably beside her, not liking the way the baby seemed to be fading away from the outside world. The machines were at least ten times louder than the baby's heartbeat.

"I'd bet the mother was about five or six months along. Probably induced early from the accident." He thought out loud. She nodded curtly, showing she was listening but blatantly telling him she wasn't thinking of his words. She was now in her pit of worry and reflection that he could never keep up with. Even Edward couldn't, it was moments like these where he knew it was best to leave her alone.

Minutes, hours, days could have passed and the two vampires wouldn't have noticed. Time was not an issue for vampires. In fact, they only did human actions just to keep up with appearances.

Rosalie watched intently as nurses took the baby - which she could now see was a baby girl - and put the infant on a respirator. She examined how they took her pulse and listened through the glass as they did their preparations. So she could tell, the baby was suffering from the simplicity of early labour. A weak heart, bad circulation, lack of sucking reflex. She could hear from the nurses that the baby had only been within the womb for 31 weeks...if she remembered properly (and she knew she did) the lungs are the only things that would not be fully developed.

One nurse took the clipboard and quickly scribbled something in pen before placing the piece of paper at the end of the incubator.

_NOK: Gemma Holden_

Next of kin. That must have been the mothers' name. Gemma Holden? Didn't ring a bell. Rosalie watched the baby intently, listened to the heart monitor, watched her eyes flutter beneath her eyelids. Her heart went out to the poor creature: this creature who did nothing wrong. She had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. People could try and save her, but she might not survive. People could try and watch over her, but she would be scarred. She would never be the same, she would never be normal; she had been ripped from her life...

"Rose." Emmett seemed to have noticed her face. Noticed and realized the parallels. He placed his hand on her back. "There's nothing we can do to help."

"I know." She whispered, more pain lining her voice than she initially thought.

"Let's go." He emphasized, placing pressure on her back until she started to move with him. Not of their own accord, her eyes tore themselves from the child, but no matter how far she could have walked from the baby, she couldn't stop analysing the situation. Rosalie couldn't bring it in her to breathe. There was a feeling deep within her that made her head reel. It nagged and scratched like picking at a scab or poking a bruise. It was something so obvious that it wasn't obvious at all. It was a blood lust, a sort of psychological frenzy...

She _wanted _her.

And not for blood. Not to hold while she died or watch as she shivered...she _wanted _that baby. She wanted that little girl like she wanted life. That little vessel of bliss that would end up being everything she had ever wanted. She could have a family, a dream, something to look forward to. She could have a life. _That _one.

Rosalie stayed within her thoughts, within her shock and realization that she wanted something as much as she wanted Emmett, she wanted something more than she wanted _blood_. It was primal. It was doomed to happen as soon as she laid eyes on the child that probably wouldn't survive the year...

"Emmett," Rosalie began, never-to-be-shed tears cutting through her eyes. "I-"

"Don't be stupid." He cut in bluntly. "The kid's going to die."

"I don't care."

"You'll care when it happens in your hands." She tried not to let the nurses walking through the halls notice how upset she was. "Don't even think about it. It's not a fucking toy and it's not an orphan. It's going to die and you're going to freak out."

She glared at him, her topaz eyes hitting his like a bolt of lightning. He sighed, taking his hand from her back, knowing that this was around the time she told him to get away from her. He took a step back.

"Come on, baby, I just don't want you to do anything...well, stupid."

"I'd rather be stupid than heartless." She hissed, walking away from him. Her Prada heels slammed against the tile floor and she made sure by her posture that he understood he was not welcome to follow down the wing. She heard him sigh, to which she sent a quiet whisper of "dick," right in his direction. He chuckled, confident then that he would be forgiven before going into the closest room and beginning his own checks.

Rosalie wanted to get farther away. She wasn't ready to simmer just yet.

She walked farther away from the baby, farther away from her husband, just to make sure she _didn't _do anything stupid because all her maternal instincts were raging for her to break the glass, grab the baby and run.

_Now that would just be foolish_, she reasoned lightly. She wouldn't want to risk hurting any of the other babies just because she wanted to break the glass. She could go through the door? But no...That would mean that people would realize she suddenly had a baby when she hadn't wanted to adopt nor had she been pregnant...

_Foolish. _She chastised again.

And yet the idea wouldn't go away.

It was like it was flashing as bright as a beacon in her peripheral vision and the more she...

_Speaking of peripheral vision, _she thought with a raised eyebrow toward her right. Here she saw a name in a familiar lazy scrawl: _Gemma Holden._

The mother. The mother of the baby. The one who was so injured she had to be induced three months early.

Rosalie took a glance at her charts, reading the brief descriptions. It mentioned the baby...oh, she was only three-pounds, seven-ounces and thirteen inches...she was only four hours old! She could not find any details on the baby's health, as it was the mother's file. Instead it explained that the mother had six broken ribs which had punctured her lungs, severe bruising, somehow she had managed to get third degree burn on her right arm and shoulder. Also, she had a heavy concussion which currently drove her to be in a coma.

Rosalie opened her senses and listened closely to what was inside the door: monotone beeping machines, measured breaths and brainwaves. A strong heartbeat.

The woman would live.

An unfamiliar stab flushed through Rosalie's chest. For some reason that she refused to comprehend, this was not happy news. She partly wished that the mother would die so that the child wouldn't be left motherless for so long - because that is exactly what would happen. This woman wouldn't wake up for weeks. She was not producing breast milk, her child would not be held, if her baby girl died, the woman wouldn't even know. It enraged her.

She stepped in the door - later she would argue that she did it simply so she could see the features her baby must have. She was greeted by the sight of a very bruised up woman. She tried to distinguish the features from the red tinged skin - blood which had never properly washed off. Soft cheeks, a very small nose, a slight pixie nature behind her, long eyelashes which framed closed obviously large eyes, and then of course there was her beautiful red hair.

Fake red, Rosalie realized in distaste. She took several steps forward, getting uncomfortably close to the woman. She was glad she had stopped breathing however long ago, the woman's blood may have clotted but it was still all over her. Rosalie made sure to note to herself that the woman's roots were ginger. Maybe a strawberry blonde that had faded because of her close interaction with death.

The woman had pretty little features, she was sure that her daughter would be just as beautiful. More beautiful. A beautiful daughter...

...that was not Rosalie's.

Rosalie looked at the woman once more. Thought of the baby. It was a moment of pure hatred. This woman had somehow been careless...she shouldn't have been driving in the rain while she was pregnant...alright, maybe that was harsh. But her baby could have lived without a mother forever. Her baby would live its first minutes without her and then what? The little girl may not survive the night...nevertheless the week. Or the month. Or the year. Or the decade.

And who knows when this woman would wake up? _If _this woman would wake up? Just because she was alive doesn't mean that she was active. She felt sick...to think of a child just abandoned in their time of need...

Rosalie could be the arms that held her. Even if only until the baby died, or until the mother woke - just a taste of motherhood would do her good. And the child, of course. Then again - what would happen when they were separated? Through death _or _life? It may very well be too much for Rosalie to handle.

She looked at the air tube, watching as it lifted her chest and crushed it back down. This was what was keeping the woman alive. This was what she lived for, not her child. And because of her incompetence, her baby had to live through this hell as well.

"You're selfish." She hissed despite herself.

The air tube was hooked up to the respirator and from there it was connected to all the other machines. She watched the heart rate beep at an unnatural and steady pace; she watched the air suck the life in and out, watched as the brain scanner came up thin and unwavering.

This woman was as good as dead to her baby.

And because of it: she may as well have been dead to the world. For all the world is about are children. Is life.

And it was Rosalie's turn to have a life.

She looked at the machines, watching this woman struggle onto her life and in an act of both desperation and unrequited respect: she took her nail and separated the air tube from the ventilator.

A wheeze filled the room. It was like a hiss, but somehow much more deadly. Rosalie listened as the air spilled into the room and out of the tube. She watched as Gemma's chest rose and collapsed in a hectic effort to keep herself alive. And somehow she felt somewhat justified in her beliefs when she didn't hear the woman's soul evaporate from her body and the room sang in a blissful, yet monotone buzz.

_Bliss._ Rosalie repeated numbly. _What a beautiful name._

**Sorry about the final disturbing ending. Sound intriguing for a future story? Review and let me know :) **


	5. Sloth: Seven Deadly Sins

_**Sloth**_

_Paul x Rachel_

_Sloth is one of the __Seven Deadly Sins__, my sequel of one shots. This particular chapter has to do with how Paul's dispair and laziness could be cured with one movement of the earth._

"Honestly Paul, get out of my house." Jacob grumbled when he woke up, taking a lot of time to try rubbing the sleep from his face. "Every morning." He groaned when he saw that Paul had opened up a fresh bag of chips. He tried not to glare when he also noticed he had already eaten over half of it.

"Morning?" Paul snorted. "Jake, it's three. Seriously, this lame human-vamp depression is starting to take its toll." Paul muttered bitterly, even though Jake had a bit of a hard time understanding him with all of the potato chips he'd shoved in his mouth to avoid saying anything else. Paul wasn't doing so well in the mental health department either.

"It's toll? Hey asshole, I was up patrolling until seven. When the hell was the last time you did any rounds?"

"Hey now," Paul growled, suddenly getting defensive. "I do my part."

"You mean on our kitchen?" Jacob asked angrily. He didn't need to look around to know that almost all of the food had been stripped from the pantry and the refrigerator.

"I mean for the world. I am a very important part of it."

"And a humble one at that." Jake took a seat and grabbed the bag of chips right out from Paul's hands. Jacob couldn't help but smile when Paul let out a growl, which he ignored. "Did you even go home last night?"

"Nope." Paul grumbled, wanting no more to talk about himself. He couldn't go back home right now and he was surprised that Jake was missing all the hints. He distracted from that matter by stealing the bag of chips back. With an overdramatic movement, Paul flew a chip through the air and popped it in his mouth.

"Well, why _don't _you?" Jacob hissed, grabbing the bag of chips and holding it out of his reach. The shorter boy cursed the day when Jacob had gotten so much taller than him. Six foot seven...what is that? Six foot four was tall enough.

"Because I like annoying you more." Paul made a lunge and almost flipped over the table to get to the chips. Jacob spitefully shoved a handful into his mouth and made sure his mouth was full before he answered.

"You're a fucktard."

"You're a leech lover. We all have our squabbles." Jacob stopped chewing and looked at him with smoldering eyes.

"She is _not _a leech."

"Just marrying one." Jacob lunged, forgetting about the table and took Paul out. Luckily for the counter, Paul's thick head missed and didn't crack the faux agate. It was a dangerous tussle but both of them knew to keep it human. Once Jacob got a punch he deemed appropriate right to Paul's cheek bone, he got up as if nothing had happened. He took the time to right the table before he sat back down - chips in hand.

"You're such a little bitch."

"You're such a little pansy." Jacob smiled. Paul growled, he was embarrassed as he rubbed his cheek to make it heal in place, but he kept doing it. He'd rather do that than be disfigured...or have to leave the overstuffed kitchen chair. Jacob only smiled, putting his feet on the table and leaning back in his chair.

"What are your plans today - besides ruining my morning?"

"The same plans as every day, my friend." Paul said all anger seeping away as he mimicked Jacob's relaxed position. "Sit here and rampage your pantry."

"And how's that been goin' for y'uh?" He asked, smiling as he shoved the last handful of chips in his mouth before making a spectacle to prove there wasn't any left.

"Then maybe I'll just take up residence on your couch." It was more of a sigh than anything, but Jake didn't seem to notice. Paul could hardly just face the pack with his problems right now; they cut a little too close to home. Besides, Leah didn't need any more fuel against him.

"You're so lazy, man." Were Jake not so disgusted with this fact, he could have been in awe on his talent of it. Honestly, the boy did not work and yet he never seemed to get in trouble from Sam, school, his parents, _from anyone_. It was a strange kind of talent.

"Well what do _you _plan to do today? Go run off to your leech lover?"

"She's secretly a wolf girl, too. She just doesn't know it." Jacob argued quietly, balling the ruffles bag in his hands and giving it a good throw towards Paul's head.

"I thinks the lady dost argue too bad."

"When was the last time you were in school? I may not know Shakespeare or any shit, but I _know _that's wrong." Jake laughed. Paul smirked.

"You knew it was Shakespeare. You're doin' better than I am." Which wasn't true. Paul knew works by Shakespeare - not that he'd read them - but he had seen some of the movies with his family. Like the Leonardo Di Caprio version of Romeo and Juliet. He and his sister had thought it was pretty cool that guns were swords - even if it was a giant cheat. After all, swords were bad ass, but guns finished the jobs with less effort, less evidence, and more time wasted on nobility and crap like that.

"Maybe if you _attend _school, you could figure that out."

"I have better things to do." Paul informed lightly, his thoughts now resting on his sister. But Jake wouldn't know about that. Not yet. Which he couldn't patrol right now, not after the phone call he had gotten three Mondays ago.

"Those better things are to eat my chips and sleep on my couch?"

"Pretty much." When Jake started mumbling about his lack of dedication to school, Paul genuinely looked shocked as he asked, "it's a school day?"

"Man, finals are next week!" Paul's eyebrows shot up.

"Oh. Shit. Well, that's another year behind I guess."

"What are you, two or three years behind now?" Jake asked, hoping that the insult stung Paul in the least. Paul quivered for a quick second before shrugging the jab off.

"It don't matter, school doesn't mean shit." There was something in his voice that made it obvious he was upset about it and Jake quickly decided to pursue it. Anything to get the smelly mutt out of his house.

"Tell my sister that. She's coming home from _college _this week - meaning you'll be kicked out of this bed and breakfast, _brother._"

"Brother." He mumbled quietly. Jake went quiet as he watched his face darken, not understanding the reference. But quickly, Paul went back to his asshole ways as he turned away and shoved his head in the fridge.

"Exactly! She's just going to have to accept my place here." He stood up and headed to the pantry. Jacob glared at his tenacity, all curiosity forgotten.

"You _have _no place here."

"I've _made _a place here." Paul shot back immediately. He didn't like that he and Black currently sounded like an old married couple. It was a serious problem that he really would like fixed.

"Goddamn it, Paul. Just get out. I want my house back!"

"My laziness is part of my innocence, prick." Paul argued as he fished out a cold glazed ham. He went over to the cutlery drawer and grabbed a fork and knife. This was one of the very reasons he couldn't go back to his house. His mother had disappeared with her new boyfriend again and they had no food, nor money for it. But Jacob didn't know that and because of that lack of knowledge, Jacob just glared at him.

"Innocence. Cute."

"Everybody thinks so! I've just stopped arguing." A melodramatic sigh sealed the deal that made Jacob roll his eyes at Paul's arrogance before he took a deep breath, ready for the upcoming fight.

"How _can _you be so lazy? When _was _the last time you ran patrol?"

Paul tried not to wince but made sure to look at him warily, not liking the sudden seriousness to his tone. He couldn't really answer it without getting asked 'why' which was a question he would rather not answer. At least until he could think about other things besides his Esa's bad diagnosis and his mother's new play toy for distraction. Instead, Paul measured Jacob's expression and narrowed his eyes.

"Are you asking this as my brother, or are you asking this as the second in command?" He asked.

"Both." He definitely couldn't tell him then. The whole pack would know otherwise, and he didn't want their sympathy.

"Alright, like...two weeks...and a bit..." He said slowly and quietly. He immediately noticed the way that Jacob's hands clenched on top of the table with a sigh. He'd just have to accept the punishment.

"Man, the rest of us are out every other night!"

"I know, and _no one _has noticed yet. I'd call that talent." He had cut past the rind of the ham and shoved a thick piece in his mouth.

"I'd call that selfish!" Jacob fumed, slamming those fists on the table.

"It's not really that I'm selfish." Paul growled, not liking the word. He leaned back contemplating in the chair, putting a thick piece of ham in his mouth. "I think I'm just really lazy. Maybe I'm depressed."

"You're not depressed." Jacob muttered, running his hand over his face. Paul was still looking thoughtfully out the kitchen window, wondering if the statement could be true. Not that Jake could know. _Would _know.

"Maybe I'm feeling your depression over this whole unrequited love thing and it's effecting me more than it affects you."

"Doubtful."

"Or," Paul mumbled to himself. "Maybe I _am _lazy."

"My money is on the last one." Jacob grumbled. He wondered how quickly he could knock Paul out of that chair while the stubborn teenager looked up with playful eyes.

"You have money?"

Jacob closed his eyes and growled. He got out of his seat and Paul instinctively stood up with him, knowing what was coming. "That's it. Get out."

Paul raised his eyebrows. Not what he'd been expecting.

"You can't kick me out!"

"Yes I can. And I am. You're being kicked out and you have patrol. Right now. All day." Jake was pushing him towards the door as he said it. Paul felt the panic sink in.

"You're not Sam, Jacob!" Paul growled, rounding angrily on him, even though the almost-alpha was just as angry. It was obvious by the way the two were shaking. This was an argument that would not end nicely. Or without some form of bloodshed. It _would_ end up with both of them having to leave the house.

"But I can _call _Sam and he would probably find it really interesting to hear you ignoring orders from the Beta."

"_Beta_? Who gave you that stupid word?" Paul laughed. It seemed the wrong thing to say because the 'Beta' had a temper flare.

"_Get out!_"

"Make me!"

Jacob grabbed Paul's shoulder and shoved him closer to the door, now that he was determined to show him a piece of his mind. The anger was radiating around them and the whole room was quivering with their tremors for the upcoming fight. Paul, realizing his fate, whipped open the door with the hand that wasn't restraining Jake - he briefly wondered if he had broken it - before he looked into the gray sky of outside.

But that's not what he saw.

What he saw was an angel. An angel with a high ponytail of soft, midnight hair that fell over her elegant shoulder. Her pink lips fell open to show her straight, perfect teeth - they would line up for a beautiful smile. Her high cheekbones did nothing to hide the large, familiar almond shape of her deep, chocolate eyes and as he stared into them, he felt dizzy. He felt the world start to spin and what frightened him most was that he had never felt the world spin before.

And he realized what had happened.

The world wasn't spinning anymore, he was spinning. Orbiting around the goddess who possessed each part of him: body, mind, and soul. But his goddess was scared. She was absolutely frightened and he couldn't understand why.

"Jake?" She asked softly. "What's going on?" And it was then he noticed who it was, like a freight train hitting him in the chest.

This was Rachel Black.

"Rach! Welcome back! Just let me throw this trash ball in the direction of work and I'll say a better 'hi'." Jacob said. So, he couldn't tell what had just happened with him. Paul couldn't really remember why he hadn't wanted to work, but he suddenly couldn't imagine ever leaving the house if that's where Rachel was. He felt himself try to keep his anger down, as not to further frighten the angel.

"Sorry man," Paul said calmly, trying to make his voice sound as attractive as he could. "I'm taking laziness over punishment. I think I'll stay here."

"Work." Jacob ordered.

"I'm calling in sick." Paul growled back.

"Oh...are you feeling okay?" Rachel stepped in. Paul's heart stuttered with her concern. He smiled at her, but Jake answered for him.

"Oh he's fine. Just got bitten by a sloth_._" Rachel giggled, so he decided to go along with it.

"Actually, I'm a little blinded," Paul smirked. "By this beautiful woman in front of me. Nice to see you again Rach."

"Hi Paul." She smiled, trying to hide her blush. She started to walk in and around them awkwardly, but Paul swindled her luggage out of her hands, worrying that she was going to make her back sore.

"Oh, don't worry about those. I'm big and strong no matter how lazy Jake makes me out to be."

"Paul? Playing nice?" Jacob asked suspiciously. His eyes narrowed towards the boy who seemed to have pulled a 180. Paul made sure he beelined towards her room so he could be back as quickly as possible, wondering the whole time how she had even been able to lift these out of the car.

"You say that like he never does it." Rachel laughed.

"He _doesn't._" Jacob muttered, still watching him with his arms crossed over his chest. Paul only watched his body language for a second, briefly guessing how long it would be before he caught on.

Back by her side in seconds, he was pleased to see her smiling politely at him as she nodded her head in thanks. "Glad you're back for the summer - what year of college are you in, again?"

"Just finished my second."

"Well, I'm really glad you're home." He tried not to stare but he could tell his voice was too intense for what should have been such a simple statement. She shrugged lightly.

"I'm not." It was a quiet mumble that she didn't realize Paul and Jacob would be able to hear. Paul couldn't resist the temptation to comfort her.

"I am. Really. So I was wonderi-"

"_No way_!"

It seemed that Jacob Black had finally caught up.

"What?" Rachel asked, looking towards him with wide eyes, the outburst and shaking obviously weren't something she remembered as being so common for her little brother.

"Get out of my house, Paul!"

"No way to _you_. Don't be rude. Your sister and I were just having a conversation." Paul told, his arrogant voice back on. Jacob had been a jerk all day, now. He was _not _about to ruin Paul's try with Rachel.

"_I said get out!_" Jake bellowed, trying to hold back his shaking. It was unsuccessful.

"Maybe _you _need to get out?" Paul questioned with a quirk of his eyebrow. Jacob growled, which to Paul's devastation made Rachel jump, before Jake dashed out the front door and towards the woods without any more than an "I'll be back".

Paul smiled at Rachel in a way he had thought he would never be able to do seriously after all the chick flicks he was forced to endure by his mother and little sister Esa.

"I was just laying round the house. What were your plans?"

"I was going to go for a walk, actually." Rachel said with a blush. "You know, reacquaint myself with La Push." Paul didn't even have to second guess his lazy-day plans. Holding out his arm, he was pleased when she took it.

"Wouldn't want a pretty girl like you walking alone." She smiled and he couldn't even hide his 500 watt smile in return. "I mean, there could be a big, bad wolf in the woods."

With a rather ironic laugh, he held the door open for his imprint.

**Hope you enjoyed. I also hope you enjoyed the little quips towards his sister, the main character in **_Sickening_**. Please review :)**


End file.
